through correspondence with a brother, as my own itch required my unremitting attention. The students often asked me why I scratched my legs and back so much, and why I always had pimples in the rear of my hands, and between my fingers, and on my knuckles, and why I wore boxing gloves so much. I told them that I had the salt rheum that my dear mother gave me. I went to Andover, in a sleigh, with a student named Terry, who had a sweetheart in the suburbs of the town, with whom he lingered until late in the evening. On our return to Cambridge, we got lost in the woods, at midnight, and came near freezing. In our emergence from the forest, and while sharply turning a corner of the country road, we upset, and both were thrown with great violence, on the uneven snow and ice. Terry fell on his prominent, though handsome nose. The night was dark, and his hands were numb, and on applying his fingers to his nose, he could not feel it, and thought it had frozen, and broken, and gone, as blood flowed freely from where his nose ought to be, and once was, and in abject despair, (for Terry dearly loved his nose,) he exclaimed: “Branch! where are you?” “I am here.” “Well, do come here, for the Lord’s sake.” “What’s the matter, Terry?” “Branch, can you see my nose?” “No. It is so dark, I cannot see you. Where are you, Terry?” “Here.” We then found each other, and he besought me, in touching accents, to feel for his nose, and I did, and told him that I feared his nose was gone, as I could not feel it, nor could I, because my arms and fingers were so numb. Poor Terry wept bitterly, while I laughed into smothered hysterics. We got into the sleigh, and off we went towards Cambridge, with Terry moaning over the loss of his nose, and I laughing through the disguise of a cough or sneeze. On our arrival at his College room, I struck a match, and Terry rushed for the glass, and lo! his mangled nose was there, gleaming and streaming with icicles of blood, and the pale liquid of nature. He made a fire, and bathed his wounds, and melted his nosy icicles, and jumped and hopped and leaped with unwonted ecstacy. The previous cold and sudden heat of Terry’s fire irritated my itch, and I wanted to scratch my pimples, but dared not in Terry’s presence, and I put on my coat to go to my college apartment, to bathe my body with itch ointment. But Terry wanted me to sleep with him. He had a large feather bed, and the fire was blazing, and I was sure I would get into a perspiration, and give him the itch if I slept with him. So I declined. But he insisted, and locked the room, and hid the key. What to do I did not know. I dared not tell him I had the itch, but told him that I must go to my room, and get my lessons for the morrow, to which he would not listen. I had not applied ointment for fifteen hours, and I was anxious to do so that night, and made a warm appeal to Terry to unlock the door, but he would not. He then made some warm punch, and displayed his crackers, cheese, apples,